Us
by The Demon Ledger
Summary: There was a time in Dean Winchester's life were everything seemed simple: it was easy, loving him. But times... they always change. Rated M for mature adult themes; acts of homophobic violence, sexually graphic scenes, crude and graphic language, verbal and physical assault. Warning: This is an AU fic, do not be surprised by the changes in character and setting, please! M/M F/M
1. Chapter 1: Grimaces

**A/N: You don't have to read this, it's a simple little drabble about how this story came about in my mind. It's pretty boring actually but it gives a little context behind my writing and my love for Supernatural.**

I have been on a role with writing. I don't know what I'm gonna do when I actually finish watching Supernatural and catch up. I'll be in the same boat as all y'all fuckers. It's 4:27 am when I start writing this (I'll give you the time when I stop at the bottom!) and I have officially been awake for over 12 hours. My mind is racing. I can't fall asleep. So I took a couple smoke breaks and wrote this lovely little chapter of my first REAL Supernatural story.

Welcome, my friends, to the Less-Than-Super AU. Everything here is pretty normal, like it is in "real life" (Jesus Christ it's hot in my house, someone turn down the heat!) and I've planned something very special for this story. You, good citizens, will just have to wait and see what I have in store for you.

**Chapter One: Grimaces**

Dean Winchester slouched in his chair, eyelids drooping tiredly over his bright green eyes. He'd spent another long night working in his Uncle Bobby's garage, fixing up the Impala his drunk of a father had left to him when he'd finally succumbed to liver cancer. He watched his little brother, Sam, sitting up straight in his desk, paying close attention to their government teacher, right at the front of the classroom. _'Little brat,' _thought Dean affectionately, smiling fondly to himself. Dean shifted his leather jacket more comfortably on his shoulders, glancing around. Sammy had moved in with him a few weeks ago, Bobby taking him in while their father lay sick and dying in a hospital room they couldn't begin to afford. It wasn't a big school, Sioux Falls: it had about 600 students to its name. Dean's last school had over 2,000. He'd blended into the background, inconspicuously fading away from all the cliques he so hated. During lunch, he'd sat in the Impala, listening to his father's collection of old cassette tapes and smoking too much. He didn't hit up the girls here like he did in Chicago – they were all too prim and proper for his liking.

In fact, the last girl he'd fucked had proved something to him: Dean was gay. He wasn't proud of it; in face, when he told his father, he'd practically beaten Dean into next week. Dean shook his head, chuckling silently to himself. Why he ever thought his dad would take fondly to the idea of his son being a 'cock-sucking fudge packer' was beyond him. The desperation in his voice as he'd begged John to stop, to just listen for a second made him feel weak. But on top of all that, Sam hadn't been able to look at his father the same way when he came home to Dean crying silently, wrapped in his bloody sheets.

_"Dean?" said the tiny twelve year old. He pulled back the sheet – it was stained horribly with blood, and Sam suspected the worst. He would've been right; John was a drunk and Sam hated him so… but Dean always expected the best out of him: look where it got him this time. Dean's bloody features were the first thing he saw under the sheets, then the cuts running deep up his toned and muscular arms. Dean's face was streaked with tears, cutting through the blood and outlining bruises that bloomed across his face. Sam shook his head silently, walking from the bedroom and returning a moment later with the hefty first aid kit he'd invested two months allowance in the first time John had laid a drunken hand on his brother. He smiled softly at him now, wrapping his arms thickly with gauze, not pausing to speak or ask questions: there was no reason to. This wasn't the first time it had happened. He dabbed at Dean's face with more gauze, He put a bit of isopropyl alcohol on a clean washcloth. _

_ "This is going to sting," he whispered, glancing at the door. He dabbed the bloody cuts on Dean's face, holding his breath as Dean gasped in pain. He held the cloth there, checking every so often until the bleeding lessened. "What did he do this time?" whispered Sam. Dean shook his head. "I'm guessing the cuts weren't him though." Dean shook his head again, shame filling his eyes. Sam smiled again, squeezing his brother's hand. _

_ "Dean, it's okay. But… what's wrong?" asked Sam again. Dean shook his head more vigorously, crying harder. He pulled the blankets up, sliding down in his bed, rolling away from Sam. He sighed softly, placing a hand on Dean's worn back. He winced and hissed in pain, moving slightly away from Sam's hand. "I'll be back in a little bit to check on you." Sam stood, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He opened the door quietly, careful not to squeak the floorboards as he stepped into the hall. He could see from this position his dad sitting in the living room. Peaking his head in, he peered into the living room, comforted by the sight of his father sleeping: a bottle of Jack Daniels perched in his lap, baseball game on the TV. He continued down the hall to his bedroom, dropping his overnight sac onto the bed – it was late, round ten o'clock in the evening, and Sam was tired. But he couldn't sleep with Dean so scared. Sam knew what happened. He was neither stupid nor ignorant; Dean had either gotten caught or had told John. Neither were smart moves, but Sam had to hand it to his brother: if he came out to his father straight up, like he said he wanted to, kudos to him. Sam pulled his cell phone out of his jacket pocket; face screwing up in the bright light and dialed Bobby's number. _

_ "Hey Bobby," said Sam into the answering machine. "Dean told Dad 0 at least, I'm assuming he did. I need you to come get him for a few weeks tomorrow. I'll write a not from dad saying he'd had his appendix removed, or something." Sam heard the sound of his fathers chair creaking and hurriedly whispered: "call you back in the morning." _

Dean looked down at his notebook, scribbling notes from the projector. He'd at least try his hardest with this for Sam; after all he did for Dean. Bobby saved his life, retrieving Dean around noon the next day; he must've driven through the wee hours of the morning to get Dean before John woke up from his drunken stupor. But that was nothing compared to the beating Sam faced that evening when he'd gotten home from school.

_'My son can't be a fucking faggot, Samuel! My son,' smack! 'cannot' smack! 'be gay! It's unnatural. It's not right! Bring him home, Sam, and we can help him. Bring him home…" _Dean had heard the whole conversation on the phone at Bobby's house. He'd sobbed for hours alone in the room Bobby gave him. Dean shuddered in his seat, glancing once more around the classroom. There were many beautiful girls, sitting upright, watching their teacher with diligence. In the front of the room, sat next to Sam, was a boy in a dark blue, fleecy sweater. He turned at the break, laughing with Sam for a moment before glancing back at Dean. He giggled, looking back towards his brother. Dean looked down at his desk, smiling softly.

An hour later the bell rang for lunch, and Dean threw his notebook in his bag. Sam stood by his desk, waiting patiently for his brother. The dark haired kid stood next to Sam too, smiling brightly.

"Hello, Dean," said the boy – man, Dean corrected himself. This man looked like he could be the teacher himself. "I am Castiel. I heard you boys were new here." Dean nodded, returning the smile. He realized suddenly that Castiel's hand was extended in greeting. Dean took it; Castiel's grip was firm and warm. Dean looked at him, eyes scanning his face. Castiel had wide eyes, deep blue like Eerie Lake, framed by thick lashes. He had a long nose, straight and narrow. He looked like he'd forgotten to shave that morning. He scratched his face, pulling his hand gently out of Dean's grip, turning red. Dean realized he'd been staring and laughed, turning to his brother.

"What's for eatin' lil' kid?" he said lightly, scratching his head. Sam shrugged.

"Castiel is a senior here, I figured he could show us around a bit. We've visited Bobby before but this is our first day. New school. You know Dean," explained Sam to Dean and Castiel. Castiel shrugged, nodding. Dean chuckled to himself. Castiel looked at him, frowning.

"What's funny?" asked Castiel, walking with them out of the building.

"Oh, nothing," Dean elbowed Sam in the shoulder, eyebrows waggling. Sam shook his head, rolling his eyes gently at his brother. "So what do you kids do for fun around these parts?" Castiel shrugged again. He seemed very non-committal.

"I personally prefer to go out on Friday nights with my girlfriend, Meg, and imbibe copious amounts of alcohol. He muttered, skirting he way between two security guards and stepping into the grassy park across from the school. He strode deeper into the grass, looking up at the clear blue sky. He was smirking, though Dean couldn't tell why. Castiel looked back at Dean, chuckling. "Meg isn't actually my girlfriend, Dean. Stop looking looking so disappointed, you might hurt yourself." He winked at Dean, turning back towards the sky.

"Hey there, Clarence," Dean turned, and a voluptuous young woman sauntered towards them. "Who in the world are these lovely things?"

"Megan Thomas, this is Sam and Dean Winchester. They just moved here," said Castiel. "This is my step-sister, Meg." Dean shook her hand, looking her up and down.

"So," she said, batting her eyelashes flirtatiously. "You're bobby singers boys, eh?" Her voice was like molasses; she had a slight lisp that made her strangely more attractive. Dean and Sam both nodded.

"I better get to my car," said Dean quietly, "see you after school, Sammy, buddy." Castiel looked confused.

"Where are you going?" he said to Dean's back.

"Cigarette and AC-DC, my man." Dean glanced back and winked. "What else is there to do in a shit little town like this?" He walked away, praying not to be followed: no luck. A hand gripped his arm, and Dean turned violently, snatching it away. Castiel was slightly taken aback by Dean's sudden shift in mood. His eyes flickered over Dean's face – his crooked nose, scarred lips, but continued to walk with him. They were silent for a few yards, making their way to Dean's very shiny black Impala.

"This is yours?" asked Cas, surprised.

"Well, first it was my piece-of-shit fathers –" Dean cut himself off, pulling open the door. "You comin'? I'm fuckin' starving to death over here." Castiel shrugged, opening the passenger side door and sliding in. He looked around; there was a small green army man shoved in the backseat ashtray, and as Dean started the car, he heard something rattle in the AC. Dean pulled off his jacket, throwing it behind him. Castiel appraised him – his arms were deeply scarred, the word 'FAGGOT' carved into the soft inside flesh of his left arm.

"Didn't your mamma teach you it's rude to stare?" asked Dean softly. He gunned the engine, pulling sharply out of the parking lot. "My cigarettes," started Dean. Castiel nodded vaguely, pulling his eyes away from Dean reluctantly. "They're, uh, in the inside pocket of my bag." Castiel retrieved them, throwing them into his lap gently. He lit on with a Zippo he procured from his pocket. "So," Dean started, smiling softly. "What's your story, Cas?"

"I don't know." he said softly, rolling down his window. He trailed his hand out the window, feeling the breeze between his fingers. "My mom died giving birth to me, and my dad went kinda crazy. He blamed me; I think, even though I know it wasn't my fault. But then he met Mary… and Jesus was she perfect for him. Crazy as shit. They started dating a few years ago, and then got married. Meg was her daughter… Meg and I…" he trailed off, looking out the window. "My dad caught me a couple years ago with… this guy… Balthazar. Real piece of work. And after that, she was all I really had in this world. We moved out here right after that, just her and I. She's actually just my friend – I never really accepted the whole 'dad got remarried to someone who's crazier than he is' thing. But to keep it simple, she is my step-sister."

"What do you mean, caught?" asked Dean. He knew, of course, but kept the subject off him for now. Castiel shrugged, looking at Dean. They had parked at a small diner. He shook his head, watching Dean drag his cigarette in silence. "Hungry?" asked Dean, voice shaking slightly. Castiel nodded, and then pause.

"Damn." he muttered, checking his pockets. "I let Meg my wallet." there was a quiet moment while Dean searched his pockets.

"And Sammy has all my money." Dean admitted. "C'mon, let's go. Looks like you'll be showing me around after all." Castiel grinned, putting a hand on Dean's wrist to prevent him from starting the Car. Dean looked at it, shaking slightly under the light pressure. "I really…" he paused. "Cas, I really don't like being touched." he murmured. The hand didn't move.

"Get used to it, kiddo," replied Castiel softly. "I'm a hands on kind of guy." Dean grinned for the first time all that day, leaning into the touch of Cas' hand. He nodded, shaking less.

"Okay." he said. Castiel's eyebrows raised, looking at him in kindness. "Okay."

**A/N: **It is now 6:03 am. I am still tired. But, I'm also more awake. I'm looking forward to writing this story. Please leave a review, a follow, or a favorite if you want to. It would mean a lot to me.


	2. Chapter 2: Firsts

**A/N: **Chapter two: so soon? Yes indeedy. I have a love for Destiel bigger than my love for anything else. It's absorbing me! Taking over my life! Help!

Leave a review, a favorite, or a follow if you're enjoying. I'm really enjoying all of you. 3 You're wonderful!

Have a nice day my lovelies. ~Bee~

**Chapter Two: Firsts**

Week's passed. Dean's fear of Castiel touching him without warning faded into a subdued anxiety. He made a regular appearance to every class, not pretending it was just for Sam anymore – he was actually enjoying school. For the first time since he was little, Dean didn't dread waking up in the morning. He still sat in the back of the class, still forgot about homework until the last minute, and it still took him a couple weeks to get out of the habit of sitting alone in his car at lunch. Castiel had, during one straining long English Lit class, pointed out that the park was public property.

"Yeah? So?" Dean muttered back, annoyed by both the droning voice of their teacher, and the slightly condescending tone in Castiel's deep octave. He pulled himself, hands curling into fists. Castiel reached across the aisle, soothing out one hand with his long fingers, not retracting when he jumped slightly.

"So, I was thinking," murmured Castiel quietly, softly running his fingers up and down Dean's hand and wrist. "Why don't you come and sit with us today?" The benefits of sitting in the back were that absolutely no one paid any attention to them. Dean was pretty sure the only way to get it was to ram his tongue down Castiel's throat. He shrugged, smiling to himself at the thought. It was so obvious that Castiel was sweet on him, but he couldn't risk jumping in blind. He needed to know him.

So Dean joined Cas, Meg, and Sam at lunch. A young, blonde freshman named Jessica Moore followed Sam around a few days later. He started a personal tradition of figuring out what everyone loved to eat and bringing it for them to have on Friday's. He watched Cas and Meg play Frisbee and smoked too many cigarette, giving too many to Meg. She was a junior, beautiful and soft tempered, easy to get along with. Dean liked Meg, feeling closer to her every day.

But the weather only stayed nice for so long. Soon, the rain came, bringing with it the promises of blistering cold. Dean, with Sammy's approval, huddled in his car with Meg and Castiel daily at lunch. He shared a cigarette with Meg, silently wishing she wasn't there. Castiel always passed when a cigarette was offered to him, a promise of 'one day' crossing his lips each time. Meg smiled some secret smile – Dean faltered. She knew him like the back of her hand while he was just beginning to learn.

Dean hurried into the school, late for algebra. He'd been hoping to catch Castiel for just a moment before class, but now his hands busied in his scarf and wool coat He realized his breath smelled like cigarettes and hoped he had gum in his locker. He hurried to find it, checking his hair in the mirror that hung there. He checked his locker, and grabbed a piece of gum from the top shelf, slamming the door shut.

"Jesus Christ, Cas!" yelped Dean in surprise. He'd been standing behind his locker door, leaning against the bay. "Don't," he pointed a finger, jabbing Castiel's nose softly, "do that." Castiel let out a small laugh, grabbing Dean's hand. "Why aren't you in class?" Dean asked confusedly, pulling his hand away from Cas'. They walked quickly down the hall to Dean's algebra classroom; it lay on the other side of the building from Dean's locker.

"You weren't in class when I checked on Meg, so I came to look for you. Actually, I was about to call you, but then I saw you standing at your locker and…" Castiel shrugged the question away. "I am but a… simple man, really." Dean laughed, looking at Castiel's smile. His eyes lingered for a moment on his lips, hesitating. Castiel leaned forward, hugging him, then sauntered across the hall to his classroom. Dean shuffled his feet for a moment, smiling to himself.

At 12:15, after Dean's agonizing double math Wednesday, Castiel met him with a smile and can of Coca-Cola. Dean rolled his eyes, taking it with a crooked grin. Their fingers brushed and Dean pulled away quickly, eyes cast away. He took a small sip from the can, thanking Cas wordlessly. They walked down the hall, Dean shifting his bag uncomfortably on his shoulder. He glanced down at Castiel, a gentle smile touching his face; there was a practically uncontrollable want – need – inside him to throw Castiel against the wall and kiss him hard. He shuddered at the feeling. Castiel and he were only friends; Dean didn't want to complicate what in his mind was already perfect.

"Where to today, Dean?" asked Castiel softly. He looked at Dean with his doleful eyes, lips twisting upwards. Dean gazed at him, mending his chapped lips with a slide of his tongue. He shrugged clumsily, looking down at his boots. He shuffled his feet, and Castiel gripped his arm. "I know! Are you okay with skipping class?" Dean nodded, eyes wide. Cas grinned, grabbing Dean's hand and pulling him along behind him, stopping only to let Dean grab his coat and scarf from his locker. They ran through the rain, sliding into Dean's car.

"Do you know where Ellen's Diner is?" asked Cas. "Actually, it's a bar. But… It's good."

"Wait, Ellen's Diner?" Dean thought for a moment, and then looked back at Castiel. "Ellen Harvelle's Diner? That woman is a best friend to Bobby – she practically raised me as her own. Of course I know that place." Dean smacked the steering wheel, yelling in glee. He grabbed Castiel's hand, kissing the man's knuckles. "I miss that lady. Her daughter's practically a sister to me and Sam." Castiel looked startled at Dean's sudden excitement 0 the Impala squealed on the wet ground as the pulled quickly out of the school lot.

"You're wild!" Castiel laughed, still gripping Dean's hand tightly.

"Oh, you know just how to enchant a guy with those Swayze movie lines." Dean grinned crookedly at Cas, casting his eyes back to the road after a moment. He released Castiel's hand, face turning red. Cas snorted, looking out the window at the pouring rain. He glanced back at Dean for a moment, taking in his embarrassment.

"I don't know why you're so shy, Dean." whispered Cas, looking ashamedly down at his lap. They pulled into the diner parking lot, sitting in silence for a few minutes as Dean cut the engine. "I… have really enjoyed having you around these past weeks." Dean shrugged, eyes sliding shut. He chuckled for a moment, thinking. Dean leaned in, breathing in the soft smell of Castiel's aftershave. He closed his eyes, feeling Dean's nervous energy surge towards him. Their lips met in a frenzy of wild energy. Dean grabbed Castiel's face, fingers winding into his soft, dark hair. He dragged his lips away from Cas', gasping it what seemed to be pain. He shook his head quickly, eyes still closed, and practically bolted from the car into the diner.

Castiel sighed. He knew what Dean was feeling: the practically immobilizing feeling of fear: a fear that he would never be accepted. He moved out of the car, stepping to the drivers side to remove the keys from the ignition. He locked the car, stepping away. He stretched, feeling the rain pour in sheets onto his face. Cas stepped into the diner, looking around. Dean sat in a booth in the back with a blonde of about 12, smiling down at her serenely. He walked to the counter, shaking Ellen's hand and speaking with her momentarily.

"So, Castiel," said Ellen quietly, leaning forward. She glanced at Dean and Jo, smiling softly. "How is everything with you?" Cas shrugged.

"New kid in town, trying to make friends. Failing, I think," he answered. "How is everything with you?"

She smiled again. "I'm just glad my boys are okay. Raised them for as long as I can remember, what with their dad going on drinking binges every weekend." She chuckled to herself. "Then lil' Johanna came along and they started helping out more. After Dean came out to John, well… things changed. But Cas," she said, gripping his arm as he went to move away. "I can tell you're interested in him. But be careful: Dean is a real heartbreaker. And damaged." Castiel nodded, and Ellen released him. She nodded towards the kids in the back, shrugging to herself. Castiel took his soda to the table where Jo and Dean sat.

"'Ey there, Cas!" said Jo as he slid in beside her. Dean looked down at the table, ears red. "How're you doin', boy?"

"Who are you calling boy, kiddo?" asked Castiel softly, punching her lightly in the arm. She grinned, stealing his soda. "Hey!" he said, tugging it back from her.

"So what're you boys doin' way out here during the school day?" said Jo, leaning against Cas.

"Eating, what does it look like?" answered Dean sarcastically. His fingers traced around the edge of his glass; he continued to avoid Castiel's eyes. He was embarrassed, embarrassed by his behavior in the car with Cas. Jo reached across the table, grabbing Dean's hand and squeezing it.

"I'll get you guys your food." said Jo. Her voice was soft and gentle. Castiel stood to let her out. She patted his back, kissing him lightly on the cheek.

"Are you okay?" asked Castiel, sliding back into the booth. Dean shook his head wordlessly, eyes filling with silent tears. He pushed up his sleeves, pointing to the word that was carved into his arm.

"I can't be this, Cas." he said, voice shaking with emotion. "Dad tried so hard to do the best he could with the cards he was given… and I'm letting him down, by being… this… thing!" Dean practically slammed his hands on the table, relenting just before they touched the hard top. Cas shook his head, staring at his cup of soda.

"You can be whatever you want to be, Dean. Whatever makes you happy? Do it. Because after everything you've been through, you obviously deserve that." he shook his head again, anger surging through him. He was usually a calm tempered man, but this just took the pie on his patience tolerance. "You're a good man, Dean. Your father isn't around anymore, and now… darlin', you can do whatever you want to do." He reached across the table, gripping Dean's arm, covering his scar. Dean tried to shrug away, but Castiel clutched tighter. "Don't, Dean. Let me in, please." Dean shook his head vigorously, and Jo delivered their food.

"Dean…" said Jo, glancing at his arm before Dean could cover it. "Boy you must start takin' care of yourself. It don't matter to the rest of us if you're a 'faggot'," she put quotes around the word and shook her head, leaning in to kiss him gently through his hair. She walked away, waggling her fingers in farewell. Cas looked at him, eyes opening wider than before.

"I told you." Dean sighed, chuckling lightly to himself. "You can kiss me again if you want to." Dean looked around the diner. "Okay, not here. Maybe in the car." Dean smiled lightly, nodding his head.

"Cas, I… Thank you, man." Dean said to his burger. He ran a few fingers lightly through Dean's hair, trailing them his face. Dean clutched it there with one hand, moving into it. He looked up at Cas, eyes glowing with some unspoken promise. Dean moved away, grabbing up his burger and taking a huge bite. Castiel laughed loudly, sighing in appreciation before digging into his own burger. Between bites and sips of Coke, they shared "horror" stories. They laughed, and their hands met multiple times over the table, their feet bumping together under the table. Eventually, Dean checked his phone: two o'clock.

"Shit." he muttered, "we've skipped two classes, Cas." Cas nodded, unperturbed by this bit of information.

"So we've still got plenty of time, right?" said Cas, sipping his soda contently. Dean nodded slowly, looking at Cas, eyes narrowed in suspicion. Cas looked at him from the window, then laughed. "We can head back now, if you'd like." Dean nodded, scooting out of the booth and placing a twenty down on the table. "Dean," whispered Cas, looking at him. "Don't pay for me, I have money."

"And I treated you like an ass earlier. I'll pay. Please let me." Castiel consented reluctantly, watching Dean move slowly to the counter, kissing Jo on the top of the head and hugging Ellen tightly. He promised to come in again, maybe apply for a job flipping burgers, and Ellen patted him away. She winked at Cas, waving her goodbyes.

"Ready?" asked Castiel, clutching Dean's hand in his own. Their fingers intertwined, and Dean looked down at them; it was the first time he'd held someone's hand in over a year. He nodded, pulling Castiel tightly to him, placing a kiss on his relaxed forehead. They moved out the door, hand in hand, and Dean glanced around, shaking in fear. "Hey." said Cas, stopping him. "There are assholes in this town… but I will never let anything happen to you. I promise you that." Dean nodded, holding him to his chest again. They breathed for a moment, and Dean was able to calm down, shaking ceasing. He stepped away, blushing and looking down at his feet. Castiel leaned up, kissing Dean gently on the cheek. He backed away, getting into the car and out of the rain. He put his legs up on the dash, watching Dean put his face up to the sky, taking in the rain, putting his arms out, spinning in a slow circle before gazing into Castiel's eyes. He dipped out of the rain, pulling himself into the car. "Having fun?"

"Yes." said Dean, smiling at him. "I always have fun when I'm with you."

**A/N: **I definitely didn't mean for this chapter to be as long as it was, I apologize. For some reason, I'm getting really invested in the character development. Next chapter, you get to hear about Castiel's life with Meg. FLASHBACK TIME. All right babes, once again, if you enjoyed, please leave a review, favorite, or follow me and my stories, because I really appreciate it.

Y'all beautiful. ~Bee~


	3. Chapter 3: Horror

**A/N: **Hey all. Chapter three is well on its way. I've been writing most of the chapter in my little personal notebook, but I rather enjoy typing. It's much nicer and easier to think when I'm typing. This chapter can get pretty intense. If you have any triggers, I'm warning you now.

**TRIGGER WARNING: SELF-HARM AND CHILD ABUSE MENTIONED AND SPOKEN ABOUT IN DETAIL. **

To finish, this chapter has two different flashbacks. One from Castiel and one from Dean. You'll see and understand. Love you guys! ~Bee~

**Chapter Three: Horror**

They made it back to the school in time for Dean to hurry to his biology class. Castiel laughed sweetly at the flustered way Dean leaned forward to kiss him goodbye. The rain hadn't let up in the two hours they'd been gone, so Cas made his way casually to the library, planning to work on his essay for Lit. He smiled at the librarian, skirting his way quietly to the computer furthest from the entrance. Digging around in his bag, he pulled out his phone, a sheath of notes, and an old notebook.

'_How's bio?'_ he sent to Dean. It took a few minutes to sign into the computer, and Castiel shifted through his notes, trying to find the ones he'd taken the class before. He shook his head at the absence of them, checking his phone for texts.

'_The teacher locked me out :[' _replied Dean, and Cas chuckled. Mr. Crowley was widely known for locking people out of his classroom. He tapped out a gentle reply, asking him to come to the library.

'_Hell no.'_

_ 'Please Dean? I really need your English notes.' _

_ 'Is that all I'm good for now? ;]' _

_ 'Umm… ;]' _Castiel laughed quietly, setting his phone aside. He logged into his email, deleting the junk mail and the few left over college emails. He still needed to talk to Dean about plans for after high school. He was so confused; Castiel's fall out with his father two years earlier had derailed his plans for school almost completely. He thought back quietly to himself on the last conversation he'd had with his father.

_Castiel looked up the stairs, listening carefully to the yelling argument between Meg and his father. Tears streamed down Castiel's face, and he slowly made his way up the stairs. His wrists hurt and he was still dizzy from blood loss; he'd tried his hardest – with the help from his elder brother Gabriel – to tape up his wrists. His father had, the night previous, tried to exorcise him: tried to save him from the 'demon riding his skin'. It terrified him, and he would have died bound to his bed had Meg and her mother not come home. His sister, the saint, had called Gabe sobbing, holding towels to his wrists. Meg was always fighting for him: his happiness, his sexuality, his ability to make his own choices. Castiel walked into his fathers study, putting a hand gently on Meg's shoulder, interrupting her. She glanced back at him, smiling through her tears. _

_ "We're leaving, Dad." said Castiel, looking at Meg. She nodded, gripping his hand. _

_ "You're not leaving, not till I'm through talking to you, kid. You're sick! You need help. You need Jesus' help, kiddo." Castiel shuddered at the fond word. He shook his head, stepping towards his father. _

_ "Jesus was just a man, Dad. I'm not sick, and I don't need help. YOU need help-" his dad lunged towards him across the desk, smacking him hard across the face. Meg, crazed in her attempt to protect Castiel, screamed gutturally in rage, clawing at her stepfather. Castiel stared at the ground, fresh tears wetting his eyes. Meg and his father fought harder, screaming at each other, agonizing words tearing them both apart. Cas heard the front door close, and he hurried down the stairs._

_ "Balthazar," said Castiel, rushing into his best friends arms. He sobbed silently for a moment into his chest, feeling Balthazar's large hands calmly rub Castiel's back. Balthazar placed light kisses in his dark hair, hushing him. "I have to leave here, before he kills me." Balthazar nodded, stepping back. _

_ "You never called me back last night," said the blonde. His voice had a light tone, English and loving. Castiel nodded, looking ashamedly down at his feet._

_ "I… My father…" Castiel trailed off, fingers moving gently along the edge of the kitchen chair. Balthazar touched them lightly, and Cas moved away, pulling his sleeve up his arm to show him the burns and cuts; the bandages that wrapped thick around his wrists and mid-forearm. "He tried to exorcise me last night. It was terrifying… I thought he was going to kill me Bal." Balthazar looked at him, fury set deeply in his blue eyes. He looked sadly at Cas, placing a light kiss on his lips. "Kiddo…" started Castiel, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the door. "You have to go, he'll kill you if he sees you." Balthazar pulled Castiel's hand off him, shaking his hands._

_ "Being fearful of your father is like being fearful of God: recommended, but incredibly foolish." He turned, walking away from Cas towards the stairs. Cas chased after him, careful not to make too much noise. _

_ "Mr. Novak," said Balthazar quietly. The 19-year-old held tightly onto Castiel's hand, shaking slightly in anger. He moved his fingers to Castiel's bound wrist, holding it aloft before him. "This is wrong. Castiel isn't sick; YOU are. You are so possessed by God, you think you can save a boy who doesn't need saving. He worshipped the ground you tread, told me often how scared he was you wouldn't love him anymore. But it doesn't matter, obviously, because all you care about is curing something that will never be cured. He's per-" the elder man surged around his desk, sound of skin contacting skin making a loud sound. Castiel cried at his father, pushing him away from Balthazar._

_ "STOP!" yelled Castiel, holding his father back. "Stop, Dad. Enough. I'm done. Be done with me." Mr. Novak looked at Castiel, tears in eyes that reflected his son's._

_ "I just want to make you better, Cas. I love you, kiddo." Cas cried quietly, looking at his father. _

_ "No, you don't. You love God, you love Martha, you love your kiss-ass son, Michael. But you don't love me, Dad. You never have. I've always only disappointed you." He shook his head, backing away. "C'mon Meg. You all packed?"_

_ "Yes," she said, flipping off her stepfather and backing out of the room. Castiel turned to Balthazar, thanking him wordlessly, taking his hand. _

_ "This feels right to me, Dad. This feels like what I'm meant to be. If you're ashamed of that, I'm sorry you're so tortured." They left, walking to Castiel's room in the basement. His heart raced, hearing his father crash around his study. Gabriel sat in Castiel's room, unlocking his medical kit to clean a cut in Meg's eyebrow and her split lip. He smiled at Balthazar, hand extended in greeting.  
"Been a while, eh, Balthazar?" said Gabriel, smiling at his brother's friend. "How're you?" _

_ "Bit weathered." _

_ "Yeah, Daddy-dearest seems to do that to people. Roughed you up too a bit, eh Cas?" said Gabe, winking. Cas smiled gently, slightly confused. _

_ "You said you were leaving this morning?" asked Castiel, looking at his brother; he was happy Gabe was still here. Gabriel was like his guardian angel, a man whose big, gold wings protected him from any wrong. _

_ "Figured you'd need some help getting all your shit into that piece of crap car you got." said Gabriel, smiling at Meg. He dabbed gently at her lip, then kissed her forehead the way any older brother would. "Ready?" They all nodded in unison, grabbing bags and boxes. _

_ "Thank you, Balthazar." said Castiel, leaning up to kiss him before walking out of the house with his brother and Meg._

By the time Castiel realized Dean was sitting next to him in the library, his eyes had filled with reluctant tears. Dean's eyes scanned Castiel's face, and he filled him in on the memory. Dean was struck with a sense of awe as he watched Castiel recount the last conversation he'd had with his father. The way he handled himself, the calm air he had while talking about his father… He was angry at a man he'd never met, and when Castiel was done, he leaned in, kissing him fully on the mouth.

"You are one of the strongest people I've ever met." whispered Dean. "You wanna go sit in the car?" asked Dean, looking around at the crowded library. "I have a story to tell you." Castiel nodded, logging out of the computer and throwing his things into his bag.

They walked quickly out to the Impala, hustling through the pouring rain. Dean unlocked the car, leaning across to open the door for Cas. He cast his eyes around the car, looking for any way to avoid the conversation at hand. Dean hated talking about himself, almost more than he hated the way people looked at him when they saw the countless scars on his arms. Castiel looked at him, a smile in his dark blue eyes. He started the car, pulling a cigarette from the pack in his pocket, and pulled out of the parking lot. He parked a few blocks away, checking the time and cutting the engine. He dragged his cigarette heavily, throwing it out the window before lighting another one. He stalled as long as he could before bursting into speech.

"I don't talk about myself, Cas." said Dean softly. "Ever, to anyone. Even my brother hasn't heard this story. You… you're different. You're special, Castiel. I… I'm terrified of what it means if I say this to you now, especially with summer and school in the fall and –"

Castiel put a hand on his wrist, easing his fingers off the steering wheel, pulling them into his lap. "I love you, Dean." He leaned in, kissing Dean more passionately than Dean had been kissed in two years. Dean kissed back, pulling him into his body. He pulled at Cas, straining to keep his cool. Their tongues tangled, and Dean struggled not to burn him with his cigarette. Castiel pulled away, a small laugh pulling from his throat. Dean dragged his cigarette again, sitting up. He cleared his throat, looking out the foggy window.

"My father and I weren't ever very close. It was always my job to watch Sam when Dad would go out drinking or binging on women. Ellen took us in for a couple months while he was in the hospital when we were young, but I still… even to this day I feel responsible for my brother. Especially after what he did for me." Dean started, coughing into his fist. "But I thought it would be okay, just… telling him about me. He'd had friends who were gay, especially when he was working in the garage with my Uncle Bobby. But it was different when it was his own son." He stared at Castiel, eyes searching his face.

_Dean walked through the front door, closing it softly behind him. He'd just gotten back from Stacy London's house – it was late, around eight or nine o'clock in the evening. He walked softly into the living room. His dad sat forward on the couch, watching a baseball game. He shifted, looking towards Dean. "Hey, son." slurred his father, looking him up and down. "Have fun at Stacy's?" He winked, sipping out of his bottle of Jack Daniels. Dean shrugged, coming to sit next to him on the couch. _

_ "Who's playing?" asked Dean quietly, ears hot with anticipation. He wanted to finally tell his father, admit who he was to someone he trusted and loved. Sammy knew, Ellen had known for years, but John was the only person Dean really needed to fully understand. John shrugged, looking at his son. _

_ "Somethin' on your mind, son?" asked John, putting a hand on his shoulder, concern crossing his features at the sight of Dean's reddened ears and red-rimmed eyes. Dean nodded, looking down at his feet. _

_ "Dad, I got somethin' to tell you. But I don't… think you're gonna like it. And I want you to take in perspective everything I've done for us. How many times I've protected Sammy..." said Dean. John pressed gently on his shoulder, urging him on. _

_ "You didn't get a girl pregnant, did you, son?" John questioned, looking at his son. _

_ "No," said Dean, chuckling, shaking his head. "No, it's… definitely not that. Dad, I'm… Dad, I'm gay." he stumbled the words out of his mouth. John removed his hand slowly, looking at his son. He spun slightly in his drunkenness, shaking his head. He scooted away from his son, staring at him. He laughed slightly, before looking at Dean. His face went blank, eyes taking in the pure look of self-loathing that had collected on Dean's face. _

_ "No, Dean. You're… no." He stood, breathing in sharply. "Dean, you are not a faggot."_

_ "Dad, please, listen to me." Dean begged, sitting forward. _

_ "You're a FAGGOT?! DEAN, MARY DID NOT BRING A FAGGOT INTO THE WORLD. YOU AIN'T A COCK SUCKER, KID." yelled John, hands balling into fists at his sides. He leaned forward, slapping Dean across the face. "YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME, SON!" He slapped Dean again, grabbing him by the shirt collar. John shook him, pushing Dean down. He fell to the floor, face slamming into the table. He could feel the bone in his nose break, blood pouring down his face. John kicked him, brutality searing through him. "I LOVE YOU, DEAN, YOU'RE MY FUCKING SON. YOU CAN'T BE A FAG, DEAN, NO. YOU'RE TOO GOOD FOR THAT, TOO GOOD FOR THAT DEAN." _

_ "Dad, stop, please stop." he begged, kneeling on the ground, spitting blood into his lap. "Dad, please." John slapped him across the back of the head, sounds spitting from his mouth but no words forming. Dean sobbed emptily, body shaking in fear. He crawled across the room, dragging himself as his father fell into his arm-chair, wailing. _

_ Dean pulled himself onto his bed, pulling a knife from his bedside table. He carved his skin that night, digging deeper than he ever had. A word formed in the blood – "faggot". He sobbed dryly, begging for someone to kill him, for him to just die. But he knew he couldn't do that. Not to his brother, not to Ellen and Jo and Bobby. He pulled his phone out, texting Sam with shaking hands._

'Come home, now, please. I… Dad… I need you Sammy.' _Dean wrote. He sent, hearing the small tone that signaled its confirmation. He whined in pain, pulling the sheet over him. He pulled his sleeves down, holding the soft cotton to his painful cuts, waiting. _

"Dean…" whispered Castiel, pulling Dean into his lap across the cab of the car. Dean sobbed heavily, pawing at his face, covering his mouth to attempt to muffle the inhuman sounds that escaped him. He kissed his face softly, murmuring words of comfort into his soft, light brown hair. "Dean, he's gone. He can't hurt you anymore." Castiel said.

"He did the best he could." said Dean, clutching tightly to his shirt, breathing in the smell of Castiel. "He… did the best he could…" Dean repeated. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't see. "I can't drive, but Sam needs a ride back to Bobby's, and I need to go somewhere." Castiel nodded, pulling Dean more towards him and climbing into the driver's seat.

"You're coming home with me for a bit." said Castiel, he looked over at Dean and smiled. "I love you." Dean looked at him, wiping tears off his face. He nodded, smiling through still wet eyes.

"Thank you for listening." he said. Castiel nodded, looking at Dean, eyebrows raised.

"Is it okay if I drive your car?" asked Castiel. Dean glanced at him, raising his eyebrows in return.

"I wouldn't have said anything… if I hadn't meant it." Dean countered, sniffling and scratching his cheek. He felt his throat closing again, and another wave of sobs wracked him, and Castiel started the car, moving out of their parking spot, and down the street. He pulled Dean towards him, holding him gently against him.

"I love you, Dean Winchester, you know that right? I know it's sudden and soon but… I've never felt like this before. I've never felt good like this. You make me feel good like this." Dean sniffed and chuckled, pressing closer to Castiel. He nodded, kissing his shoulder.

"I think I love you too, Castiel Novak." Dean murmured into his shoulder, muffling his whimper. "Yes, I definitely love you too." Castiel sighed in happiness, wrapping Dean closer to him, feeling pleased with his life.

**A/N: **Wow, big changes are happening here! I'm very pleased. Thank you for breathing along with me in this crazy whirlwind of a story. You all make me feel better about myself. Stay tuned! Love you bunches ~Bee~


	4. Chapter 4: Meg

**A/N: **I hope you guys liked the last chapter! I really enjoyed it. If not, you can leave a review and tell me what you didn't like. If you did, please leave a review and tell me what you did like! It means a lot to me, and I know I ask for one every time… but I haven't gotten a single review yet and we're already on chapter four. I'm so sad! So please tell me if you liked it and if you didn't, then… tell me anyways. I love you guys and now it's onto the next chapter.

**TRIGGER WARNING: RAPE, USE OF HARD DRUGS AND ALCOHOL ABUSE IN THIS CHAPTER. PLEASE STAY SAFE AND CLEAN IF YOU'RE STRUGGLING. I LOVE YOU ALL. **

**Please favorite and follow if you're enjoying the series, please leave a review, and keep reading. I love you all very much. **

**Chapter Four: Meg**

Castiel jumped out of the Impala, leaving it running, and jogged to get Meg and Sam, who stood huddled under Sam's umbrella. The rain had just about stopped, making room for a November cold front to blow in from the north. Dean watched him quickly murmur something to them, glancing to the car and back again. Dean felt his face grow hot with embarrassment as Meg grinned and ran back with Castiel and Sam. She leaned in, giving Dean a messy kiss on his forehead, and scooted over enough for Sam to climb in. The silence was deafening as Castiel pulled out of the parking lot. Dean cleared his throat, looking at Castiel. He smiled mysteriously at him, winking. He blushed again, looking down into his lap, fingers twitching.

"Dean," whispered Meg, placing her hands on his shoulders, "you're gonna be okay, kid." she kissed his cheek, pushing her face against his softly and gently. "We all love you." Dean nodded, tears streaming down his face.

"Thank you, Meg." Dean said through his tears. She nodded, leaning back. Sam gave Castiel directions to Bobby's house, stepping out of the car when they arrived. He leaned in Dean's window.

"What do you want me to tell Bobby?" he asked, leaning his head on Dean's shoulder.

"The truth: that I need some space and I'm depressed right now, because that's the truth. I'll be home tomorrow, okay?" Castiel gripped Dean's hand, brow furrowed.

"Are you sure?" Cas sounded concerned, eyes searching Dean's face slowly.

"Shit. I probably should've asked first. Is that okay?" asked Dean, leaning into Castiel's grip. He nodded, a smile flooding onto his face. Meg clapped her hands, grinning. "I'll see you tomorrow, first thing in the morning, we'll come and get you and take you to school." Sam nodded, patting his brother on the back and walking to the house. They drove away, blasting AC-DC and smoking cigarettes. They drove around Sioux Falls, down the empty highways, Dean taking the wheel once he felt stable enough to drive. He drove too fast, speeding down the highway while Meg gleefully leaned out the window and Castiel finally accepted a cigarette. He pointed out beautiful spots, and then gave Dean directions to his apartment when everyone claimed they were 'starving'. Dean pulled into the complex parking lot thirty minutes later, letting Meg jump out to run and open the door before finding a place to park. It was raining again, sheets of icy wet pouring down onto the car. Dean looked at Cas, eyes bright with happy energy.

"We've known each other for less than two months, Cas." said Dean quietly. He knew they had something, he could feel it. But this was the first time he'd been happy in years – since Lisa Braeden had died his freshman year. This was something he couldn't ruin, not like he'd ruined Lisa. Castiel looked at him, picking another cigarette carefully out of Dean's pack and lighting it. The way he looked, smoke trailing from between his slightly open lips, made Dean wonder how he'd arrived at this more beautiful of moments in his life.

"Yes?" Castiel whispered, looking out into the sheeting rain. "And?"

"And I don't want to rush through this like I have all of my relationships. The last time I was this happy, she got mugged and stabbed and bled to death in an alley way when I should've been walking her home and we weren't even together, Castiel, we weren't a couple – she was a senior and I was just a scared little freshman. I should've been with her, but I was too busy having sex to realize she'd texted me 53 times and called me six, left me five messages. So, instead of being there for her, she died. And I lost my best friend – I lost the only person who really knew who I was. Because of that, I don't let people in. And I will never forgive myself for letting her die, Cas, never. So I can't rush this. I can't fall into this because I can tell how happy she is for me, she's always right there in that backseat, watching me be happy and I have to…" Dean trailed off, looking imploringly into Castiel's dark eyes. He nodded, looking away.

"When did that happen?" Castiel stared blindly out the window, face settling into one of indifference.

"Three years ago; we still lived in Lawrence. We moved a few months after that. I don't really remember exactly when, but I do know that it was my fault she died that night." Dean paused to collect his things. "I can't rush this, Castiel, and if you don't understand that, then I'll just go home but I-"

"Dean." said Castiel, taking his hands away from packing away his sweater into his bag. "I don't want to rush this either. But you are wonderful. Truly, Dean, after everything you've gone through – and I don't even know the half of it, I know. I know. But what I do know about you, is that if you weren't as strong as you are, you wouldn't be standing here in front of me asking not to rush things. And I think… If Lisa is there with you, every day? I don't think she blames you. I think you should give up blaming yourself. So…" Castiel brushed his fingers across Dean's cheek, kissing him lightly. "When you're ready to take it further, when you think you're gonna be okay… You let me know." Dean nodded. He leaned forward, pulling Castiel's face towards him with both hands, and pressed his mouth hard against his.

"When I say I love you, I mean it." said Dean softly, pulling away from Cas. "Now take me inside, because I'm starving, and we're gonna be soaked by the time we get inside anyways." Castiel laughed, jumping out of the car. He slammed the door close, watching Dean lean across to lock it and then stepped out of his side of the car. Castiel squealed when Dean threw him across his shoulder, running through the parking lot with Castiel begging to be let down the whole way.

"I love you, Castiel Novak. I do." He set Cas down just inside the building, holding him steady as he swayed dizzily on the spot. "I kissed you, and I just knew. I just knew, Cas. I knew I wanted this, and I can't stop myself anymore. I love you and I want to be with you. And you're right we can't rush this and I have to stop blaming myself for Lisa but I don't know how yet. I just want you to know that… I love you. And I want…" Dean grasped Castiel's hands, pulling him close and laying his forehead against the other mans, water dripping between their noses. "You. I want you." Castiel breathed in gently, a smile spreading across his face. He nodded, leaning up to kiss Dean softly.

"C'mon, Meg probably thinks we're canoodling in your car. She's gonna yell at us when we get up there to not have sex in the parking lot, just so you know." Dean guffawed, letting Cas drag him up the six flights of stairs.

* * *

Meg cooked like a professional. She blamed it on 'being L'eesiana born and bred', but Dean knew there was something else to it. The prideful smile she wore on her face when she presented her food told Dean it was something she took to heart. When he took his first bite, he understood why she was so proud of it. It was amazing – after eating microwavable dinners and spaghettio's, cereal and bland, overcooked pasta his whole life, he understood why food was so important to her. It was a representation of her emotions, today: a sort of overjoyed appreciation of Dean and a love for Cas. She leaned against the slick counter, watching Dean eat.

"I have never had food this good," said Dean, "Not since my mom died, at least." Meg nodded, ginning.

"I've been saving this meal for the first time you spent the night. I figured since you're all Cas talks about, it should be special." Castiel kicked her and she almost choked on her mouth full of potatoes.

"Well it's amazing Meg," Dean continued, shooting Cas a look. "Thank you." he set his plate down, wrapping his arms around Meg to give her a crushing hug and kiss the top of her head gently.

"He's my unicorn," she said into his shoulder. Dean looked confused. "He's the brightest, most uniquely amazing thing in my life. And that would probably make you his unicorn, so… Take good care of him." Dean settled back against the counter again, raising his eyebrows at her. She got flustered, flailing her hand wildly while attempting to swallow, meaning to amend herself. "Oh, jeez, I mean when I go away to college. Cause I am, and Cas isn't. Because my mom offered to continue paying for schooling so… Cas made me take it. And I need someone here taking care of him, because I won't be able to from Stanford or Yale or wherever I decide to go."

"Somewhere prestigious," said Cas with an air of righteous indignation. She laughed, poking him in the gut. "You two, finish your dinner so I can wash dishes before Grey's Anatomy comes on at nine, I'm not missing this weeks episode because Cas decides he's too good for it."

"Let me wash dishes, Meg." offered Dean. She shook her head, smiling down at the sink.

"No, it's my routine. I can't… break it. Trying to stay clean, ya know?" she held up the AA chip. "Four months, and all because of Cas." Dean nodded, rubbing her back.

"Not even for tonight?" he asked gently, not wanting to push her.

"No, I… have to stay on schedule. If I even have a little bit of free time, it'll get to my head. Today was fun, but I'm pretty regimented," she muttered, looking pressured.

"Okay." said Dean. "Okay, we'll be in the living room." she nodded, scrubbing away at a pan. He shook his head, chuckling. "Didn't take Meg for an AA kind of person," whispered Dean to Cas. He took Dean's hand.

"She's really strong, actually," said Cas. "Fell off two years ago after something really horrible happened, and I had to help her get clean. She went to NA for a while, too… but that didn't pan out and she's been clean from that for a year."

"What happened?" said Dean before glancing at Cas. "If you don't mind."

"Just tell him, it's not a big deal," yelled Meg from the other room.

"Well…"

_ Meg stepped into the large house, smiling at the other partygoers. She felt out of place; this wasn't her scene. She hung out with a crew of Metal heads, and Cas. Cas was her lifesaver, made her feel whole inside after all the shitty things that had happened with her father and mother. He was her best friend. She was here for him. Meg nodded to the crappy pop music, feeling the eyes on her Dethklok shirt and ripped black jeans, the leather jacket swinging from her fist. Her eyes darted around the room as she paced through the large house, confused by its complexity._

_ "Excuse me," she said to a small girl, who shrunk away from Meg when she turned to look at her. "Do you know Castiel Novak?" the girl nodded, pointing into the kitchen. "Thanks." she squeaked a reply, but Meg had already started towards the kitchen, hands shaking from the amount of people that paced around her. _

_ "Meg!" cried Castiel, rushing around the table to hug her tightly, swaying drunkenly. "You said you weren't coming!"_

_ "Well, Clarence," she drawled lightly. "I made you a promise, didn't I?"_

_ "Yeah well, that doesn't mean you have to be here. I know this isn't your scene." Castiel slurred. "Isn't there a show tonight?" _

_ "Yes." said Meg matter-of-factly. "But I'm missing it to keep an eye on you, because I promised your boyfriend I would." she shook her head, looking down at her booted feet. "Wore my Doc's in case I need to kick some ass." Castiel laughed loudly, pulling away from her to the table. _

_ "Hey, you guys!" his friends looked up from the dining table, shot glasses in front of them and empty bottles strewn across the polished wood surface. "This is Meg, she's my step sister. Say hi, Meg." Meg nodded her head, looking through the crowd of people. Music bumped loudly, making it hard for her to think. She shook her head, going to the fridge to find her beer; it was her house after all, she should know where everything was. She popped off the top of the PBR with her teeth, lighting a cigarette and plopping down next to her stepbrother. _

_ "Whoa." said a kid sitting across the table from her. "Did you just take the top off of that with your teeth?" Meg nodded slowly, taking a sip without looking at him. She stood again, dragging her cigarette then shoving it between her teeth, checking her phone, and pacing out of the room. _

_ "I'll be back," said Meg, glancing at Cas. He nodded, looking at her; his lips mouthed the words 'are you okay?' she nodded, turning away and walking towards the door, which hung open. She stepped onto the lawn, processing this party her brother Gabriel had thrown for Cas. It was ridiculous – kids she barely knew, kids he barely knew, kids that were throwing up in the yard and kids that were fucking against the side of the house. She gagged slightly against the next sip of beer, crossing paths with teens making babies on the lawn. _

_ "Get the fuck off my lawn." she said, kicking them in the side. They shot up, fear in their eyes at the sight of Meg with her cigarette and her cheap glass bottle of beer. "ANYONE HAVING SEX ON MY LAWN NEEDS TO LEAVE. __**NOW.**__" A few people bounced away, stumbling to cars or down the street. She nodded to the bad pop, strolling back inside, clicking away from it on the iPod dock. She plugged her phone in, cranking up the death metal. People moved out of the house, glaring at her, and Castiel moved to Meg, nodding in time with the music. _

_ "So, death metal?" said Cas, dancing with her. She nodded again, swigging down the rest of her beer. "You want everyone out? Cause I can kick people out, I can do that for you." she shook her head, smiling lightly at him. She paced away, back into the kitchen to grab another beer. Cas followed her, swaying hard with the hard music. "Are you okay Meg?" She nodded again, still not speaking. She opened the second beer, walking to the stairs. _

_ "I'm tired!" she yelled to Cas. "Make sure people don't bother me!" He grunted loudly in affirmation, dancing against his boyfriend. She danced lightly into her bedroom, moving her feet. Meg's room was dark, even with the light turned on. Her walls were draped in posters, one wall dedicated to a collage of the cigarettes she'd smoked, packs carefully cut open and laid artistically over each other. She fell back onto her bed, beer spilling onto her dark comforter. She lit another cigarette, taking deep drags off of it. Smoke poured out of her mouth, and her eyes slid shut. She mouthed along to the music, hearing people stream out of the house. She killed her cigarette, putting it out in the ashtray next to her bed and sat up. Meg walked to her closet, opening the door to the small room and stripped down to her underwear. She heard footsteps, and the door to her bedroom creaked open. _

_ "You really didn't have to make people leave, Castiel," she said, sifting through her clothes. A hand wrapped around her mouth and stomach, and she jerked backwards, starting to scream._

_ "Don't make a sound, Meg. You'll like this, you little dyke." said a familiar voice. He turned her around, looking into her eyes, keeping a hand on her mouth. Uriel smiled at her, a smile of death and fear. She twisted around, trying hard to move away from him, but he gripped her tighter. "I saw you and Anna, you bitch. That's my girlfriend and you fucked her and I know you did. You're just a little slut… but let me show you how big of a slut you really are." He yanked her to the bed, throwing her down and then landing hard on top of her when she tried to move away. She heard him yank down his zipper, and she struggled and squirmed beneath him._

_ "Please," she whispered, "please, Uriel, don't do… this please." she pushed him, kicked her legs, throwing herself, full bodied against him. He chuckled – he was huge, much bigger than the last time she'd seen him. She pushed again, struggling. He ripped her panties off, throwing them across the room. He shoved into her, thrusting against her. She screamed hoarsely, and he pushed a hand against her throat. She gagged and choked, feeling her airway close. _

_ "Uriel let go of me, please, you're choking me," she gasped. He thrust against her, moaning gently into her ear._

_ "That's the point, sweetheart," he grunted, further distressing her. Tears streamed down her face, and he kissed her. "Oh stop, you're not upset. You should be thanking me." she found no point in further struggling. She laid down, letting him rape her, feeling his weight against her and cried harder. Her pulse raced, she closed her eyes, praying for it to end. He thrust into her again and again, stealing from her the last vestige of self-respect she had for herself. _

_ Uriel finished, pulling himself off of her and zipping up his pants. "Thanks, sweetheart. You've been wonderful." he stood up, stepping towards the door. "You ever touch Anna again, I swear to God next time I will kill you." Meg stifled her sobs, holding her hands over her face. She pulled her covers up, watching him step out of the room, and down the hall. She pulled herself out of bed, hands against her throat, and wrapped herself in her blanket; Meg followed him to the stairs and ran forward, shoving him down the stairs. He rolled forward, landing at the bottom of the stairs with a loud crash. "CASTIEL. CALL THE POLICE." she screamed, pounding down the stairs. "BALTHAZAR, SOMEONE, PLEASE." her voice cracked, sobs ripping from her throat. Balthazar came running around the corner, looking at the floor and then at her. Her throat was red, and she had tear streaks running down her face. He held her closely, shushing her as she cried. Castiel came running, buttoning his pants and buckling his belt. _

_ "Are you okay?" she shook her head, burying her face deeper into Balthazar's chest. She gripped tighter to him, sobbing harder._

_ "I think…" started Balthazar, "I think he did something to her." he held her blanket up, feeling her sob in his arms. She nodded, coughing into his chest and hiccupping. "It's okay honey. Castiel is calling the cops right now." Cas had his phone to his ear, and he was speaking quickly. Meg stepped away, holding her blanket up to her chest. She sobbed again, staring down to a bleeding Uriel on the floor. _

_ "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I'm sorry Anna, I'm sorry Cas, I'm so sorry." _

Dean looked down at his feet, Meg standing with a towel, tears falling to the floor. "He died, later that night, in the hospital, Uriel did. And I… killed him. I didn't mean to, I was just so upset and scared and I pushed him. I didn't mean to hurt him," said Meg gently. Dean stretched his hand to her, looking into her dark brown eyes.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Meg," he said softly. She nodded, looking down at her feet. "You are very strong and very brave."

"Yeah," she laughed, "maybe a little too strong." They all laughed, and Meg sat down. "That's my story, Dean. What's yours?"

* * *

The night passed quickly – Meg falling asleep with her head in Dean's lap, his fingers coursing through her hair. He woke her up, Castiel moving her from the sofa bed to her real bed. Cas pulled out the sofa, moving with a sleepy Dean to make the bed. Dean rocked his way under the covers; Castiel laughed, moving away to turn off the television. He paced to the lamp, flicking it off as Dean stirred gently.

"Don't go." mumbled Dean, words slightly muffled by the pillow he shoved his face into.

"What?" said Cas, leaning more forward and speaking softly, trying not to wake Meg again.

"Stay." Dean patted the bed sleepily, moving over to give him room. Cas climbed under the covers, pulling Dean towards him.

"Happy?" he whispered through the darkness, chuckling when Dean nodded. He nuzzled his face into the crook of Cas' shoulder, falling quickly into sleep. Cas hummed a sweet lullaby that lulled him to sleep minutes later. He dreamed of dean, thoughts rushing around the possibility of a forever with a kid he barely knew.


	5. Chapter 5: Misery

**A/N: **Okay, I know, I lied about drug use. I hope you liked that last chapter though – it was a pretty terrible thing to have happen. All these ideas come through looking at the characters and depending on the character I write a storyline for each and blah blah blah my brain is melting. This chapter is gonna be a little short because I've been really tired and my phone is messed up cause I dropped it and I'm pissed off and blah blah blah.

Alright, have fun reading.

**Chapter 5: Misery**

Dean awoke frantically from a nightmare, gasping and clutching at his chest. He could still feel the water all around him, drowning him; when he was a child, he went to the beach with his father and his brother. He spent most of the time in the water, and a wave dragged him out to sea. John was drunk, and the only reason he was able to live was the lifeguard. He thanked the Lord for California beaches and their strict laws. Castiel stirred, not waking. Dean sighed in relief, rubbing his back gently. He climbed out of the bed, walking to the balcony for a smoke. Meg sat there; Dean considered leaving her to some personal time, but she waved him over, thin hands moving tiredly. She patted the ground next to her, offering some blankets.

"Couldn't sleep?" asked Dean sitting carefully next to her. She curled up against him, wrapping her blanket around his shoulders.

"I have nightmares too," she whispered. "Can I tell you something?" she turned to him, eyes scanning his face. Dean continued to look out over the sleeping town, but he nodded slightly, glancing at her before looking away. She breathed in slowly, shifting under the large blanket. "It's silly. And embarrassing."

"What?" said Dean, moving away to look at her. She stared at her feet, eyes closed, waiting for him to ask again. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes. "Meg, c'mon, tell me. I'm not judging you."

"I feel guilty for killing Uriel… I feel horrible," she whispered, tears spilling.

"You didn't kill him, Meg," he murmured, holding her closer. She shook her head, frowning at him.

"I pushed him down a flight of stairs," she said, pressing her face into his chest. "I shoved him."

"You wanted someone to be able to catch him, Meg. You had forethought and now you're upset because he tumbled down a flight of stairs. How did he die?" Dean pulled her back, holding her chin up. She pawed at her eyes, looking away.

"He hemorrhage, I think is what it's called," she muttered. Dean nodded slowly. "He wasn't going to make it no matter what they did. But I feel like… if I hadn't pushed him… I could've just gone on with my life and…"

"Yeah, but it could've happened to someone else, somewhere else. Meg, you did okay. You did the only thing you could do. So no, you did not kill him. You pushed him, and then he just so happened to die. He could've been fine." Meg nodded, hugging tightly to Dean. They looked around, beams of sun cascading through the dark purple sky. Meg stretched, dragging her cigarette gently and then throwing it over the edge of the balcony. "Why did you tell me this? I mean, why me?"

"Because Dean, you are… a unicorn." Meg looked at him, laughing at the confused and slightly offended look on his face. "A unicorn means you're special. Unique. Not like everyone else in this stupid, fucked up world. Someone who has a smile on their face even when it's the darkest out. Castiel is one. You are one. You guys belong together, and unicorns deserve to know things and you should always tell them when you feel something because they know exactly what to say." She shrugged, looking at him. He smiled brightly at her. "See?" She rose, stretching. She looked at the clock on her phone. "Might as well start getting ready. It's already 6:30." she left the blanket, and walked inside to wake Cas. A sharp wind rolled in and Dean killed his cigarette, rising and stretching. He wrapped the thick, woolen fiber around his shoulders, shoving open the door with his foot.

"Morning…" said Castiel sleepily, pulling himself reluctantly out of bed. His early morning beauty struck Dean: disheveled hair, sleepy eyes, and boxers that clung to his toned thighs. _'Perfection,' _thought Dean, staring blankly at Cas.

"You okay Dean?" he whispered, waving a hand in front of his face. Dean blinked, then nodded, shrugging off his sudden onslaught of wanting. "Okay!" Cas said brightly. "Come with me, you need a new shirt." Dean followed Cas into his bedroom, which was draped with panels of bright fabrics; Dean realized suddenly that they were painted canvas.

"Did you do these?" he asked, running a hand over a portrait of a woman who looked remarkably like Cas. She had his same brilliantly blue eyes.

"Yeah," said Castiel nonchalantly. "That's my mom." he pulled out a dark, long-sleeved shirt, throwing it on over his bare back. Dean stared at him, feeling that same sensation of longing. "Here." he threw a similar shirt to Dean, who caught it in one hand. Dean stepped forward, gazing around the room – flowers and birds bloomed on the walls, a portrait of Meg hug on the wall opposite Cas' mother.

"These are amazing," murmured Dean, slipping off his band shirt and pulling on Castiel's. He stepped closer to Cas, pulling him towards him. "You're amazing." Dean pressed his mouth to Cas', sliding his tongue along the edge of his bottom lip. Cas melted, hands tracing the sharp curvature of Dean's shoulder, coming to rest against the nape of his neck. He gasped as Dean's hands fisted against his sides, winding into the soft black cotton, and Dean pulled him close, locking their hips together. The moaned softly into each other's mouths, tongues battling for dominance. Castiel tugged at the soft, short hairs on Dean's neck, kissing him passionately, heart racing. They ground against each other, sex bubbling in their bellies.

Meg cleared her throat, chuckling, and they jumped apart.

"Almost time to go if you want to get Sam.," she said quietly, stepping away. Dean strode quickly out of the room, grabbing his bag from the table in the kitchen. He double-checked for his keys. His face was hot with embarrassment as Cas entered the room. He wound his arms around Dean's waist, pressing his face gently into his back.

"What's wrong?" he asked gently. His hands rested on Dean's hip bones, caressing them gently.

"I'm just pissed off." said Dean. "I'm pissed off that I can't get over the fact that I'm gay. I'm pissed off that I'm embarrassed to be around your sister when I kiss you. I'm scared of the fact that I am completely, and totally in love with you." He stopped, turning around. His face was flushed, and tears were starting to fill his eyes. "You, Castiel. I am in love with you and that is scary." Castiel nodded, smiling up at him. "And I don't know… I don't know what it means, when I say that, so that's extra scary." Cas turned, gazing into Dean's sea-green eyes. He smiled slightly, and leaned up to kiss him. Dean turned away, scowling.

"Dean, you can't be scared. That's the one thing I know, is that when you're scared, your life stops, and you can't breathe, and nothing is right afterwards. So you can't be scared. Not for a second." Cas whispered into Dean's neck. Dean nodded, looking up to stop a flood of tears. He wasn't going to cry, not today. A small smile lifted his face, and he kissed Castiel's forehead, moving away to grab his bag.

"Go put on some pants, so we can get Sam."

* * *

School was misery. Dean slept through half of his exam in English, frowning when he realized he didn't have enough time to finish. The teacher came around to him, an indecipherable look on his thin features. Mr. Deethe glanced down at his practically empty paper, shaking his head slightly. He reached over, grabbing Dean's pencil and writing a big NOT FINISHED on the top.

"Come in after school and I'll help you," he muttered, stepping away as the bell rang. "Tests on my desk, I'll see you all first thing Monday morning. Have a good weekend." Dean stretched slightly, cracking his neck and trying his hardest to wake himself up. "You can't sleep anymore in my class if you expect to pass, Dean." his teacher sat in the desk opposite him, watching kids funnel out. "I have great expectations for you – that last paper you wrote was amazing; I didn't think anyone would see the point I was trying to get across with the prompt."

Dean shrugged, lifting his bag and settling his work into it.

"You have an amazing talent for writing. You should go with it, Dean; it could get you places." Mr. Deethe patted Dean's back and took the exam, careful not to wrinkle it. "See you after school." Dean nodded, collecting what was left of his things and shuffling from the room silently.

"How was English?" asked Cas when he met him by the stairs. "Did you finish the exam? I thought it was pretty hard, but I got through it."

"I fell asleep." replied Dean coolly, shooting a dark look at Cas.

"Oh." he murmured, feeling his face flush hotly. "Sorry?"

"I'm hungry," said Dean, warming slightly to Castiel. "Sorry I was sharp with you." Cas shrugged, motioning to the cafeteria. They walked in silence for a moment, words caught in their throats. Dean turned to Castiel before entering the cafeteria, eyes moving wildly around. "Hold my hand," he whispered. His fingers were curled into fists, shaking slightly in fear. Castiel gently uncurled one hand, sliding his fingers carefully through each of Dean's, and grasping them tightly.

"Ready?" asked Cas. He nodded, and then turned to the cafeteria door, hand in hand with Cas. This was no time to be scared; fear was for the weak, and Dean knew he was anything but. He had the strength it took to be happy, didn't he? He wanted this: passion, romance, the feeling of Castiel kissing him when people were looking, instead of secretly when he knew he wouldn't be caught. The chatter that filled the room didn't end when they entered it, hand in hand, side by side. Dean smiled and chuckled a bit; what did he have to be nervous about. Why was he nervous in the first place?

* * *

Dean understood why, now, he was nervous. There she was: the thing he'd feared the most. Her name was Ruby. He had Biology with her, and he knew deep in his heart that she was attracted to him. Her sneer filled the room with the deepest of hatred. Ruby was the girl who he'd always been afraid of – the girl that was emotionally attached to him in a way he didn't want her to be – the girl who, above all else, was a bitch. She wandered into the Biology classroom, gazing longingly at Dean, and plopped herself down next to him.

"Hey Dean." she said, almost seductively. How could one girl make the whole room uncomfortable?

"Ruby," said Dean softly, holding his breath for the fall out, the moment when she asked about Cas.

"So who was that boy," she began, leaning over the table and turning to him; this was it: "in the cafeteria? You were holding hands with him. Is he mentally retarded or something?"

Dean shook his head, laughing to himself. "You really are ignorant, aren't you?" he muttered to his paper, trying to pay attention to the teacher as her fingers wound their way up his arm.

"But wait," she whispered. "I know him, so he can't be mentally retarded, because I've actually talked to him, and we all know cheerleaders don't talk to the bottom bunk." She was grasping his shoulder now, leaning towards him to whisper into his ear. "Are you gay, Dean?"

Dean swallowed hard, looking down at his paper in silence.

"C'mon, Dean, you can tell me… maybe I can help you find the way out of the darkness." she was practically on top of him; Dean begged Mr. Crowley to turn around from the blackboard, to snap at Ruby to get off of Dean, to get out of the room, to stop thinking herself so fucking holy that she think she could always get her way. Dean nodded, looking at her.

"Yes, Ruby, I am gay, actually, and a few sessions of being harassed by you probably made it worse. So lay off, because I'm really starting to get pissed, and I don't think your boyfriend would like to hear about how you fuck me with your eyes every day, now would he?" Ruby's eyes widened, and she backed up, sitting straight up in her seat. She fixed her skirt, trying to make herself look presentable. The class was almost over when she finally glanced over at him, anger in her dark eyes, brown hair flinging from side to side as she shook her head.

"Shame," said Ruby. "It would've been great to watch someone fight over me. No it'll be great to watch someone beat the shit out of your faggotty ass." The bell rang, and she bounced out of her seat, waving her fingers gently in farewell. Dean's hands shook; what did she mean? Was his option to turn her down, to tell the truth… was it not an option anymore? Did he have to keep it all to himself, or was he allowed to be gay; Castiel said it would all be okay, but would it?

The day was over: kids were filing in distinct lines from their classrooms to their locker, and Dean was no different. He paced uniformly with the other students: head down, feet shuffling, headphones casting loud rock into his head. He maneuvered his way to his locker, but found difficulty opening it when a large fist slammed into it.

"Heard you're gay, new boy. Not smart, not smart at all." the tall jock dragged his fist from Dean's locker to his face, a straight shot to the nose resulting in a horrible crunching sound. Dean cried out in pain, grabbing his face and buckling over, blood pouring from his nose. The kid – Dean thought his name was Gordon Walker – put his knee into Dean's stomach, knocking him over. A semi-circle of students had gathered around, cheering each time Gordon punched, kicked, or somehow injured Dead. He was taken so off guard that Dean didn't even have time to fight back, all he could do was lay in a fearful ball and pray Gordon didn't bash his skull in with his steel toed boot.

"Get out of here, you invalids," said a soft voice from behind the group. The voice, though quiet and gentle, carried waves of panic through the group. "Out! Now!" Students scrambled, tripping over each other in an attempt to leave before caught by Mr. Deethe. Gordon stayed only long enough to give Dean a couple of solid kicks in the ribs – he scurried to leave, but not soon enough. Deethe's long, wiry fingers curled around Gordon's hefty forearm. "You will march yourself directly to the office and sit there until I come for you, do you understand, Mr. Walker?" Gordon nodded, fear in his eyes. "I will be there in thirty minutes, if I come and find you not present, then you will pay for it in class tomorrow." There was a moment of silence while Gordon picked up his bag and walked swiftly in the direction of the office. Dean moaned in pain, gripping his sides and struggling to rise.

"Don't you dare." said Mr. Deethe, lowering to the ground. "Standing is only going to make it worse, so don't you dare. The nurse is on her way – I know she's not very helpful, but she has a first aid kit and can probably stop this bleeding before we have to hospitalize you." Dean nodded, sinking back into a curled up position on the ground. Deethe sat beside him, hand pressed lightly into his back. Footsteps streaked up the hall, the squealing of rubber on linoleum tile signaling a student. Dean looked up; Cas and Meg were running towards them, tears streaking down Castiel's face and Meg sporting a very solid black eye and split lip.

"Dean!" said Castiel, sliding to his knees; he pulled Dean into his lap carefully, rubbing his back and talking quickly. "When you and Mr. Deethe weren't in his classroom like you said you'd be at the end of lunch, I started to get worried. I walked around the whole school, and finally I saw Meg beating the shit out of Ruby, and I figured Gordon had already gotten to you; but I knew you could fight, so I stayed with Meg to make sure she was okay. Then some kid told me you were in bad shape, so I came running down here to find you. Looks like we missed Gordon though… fuck are you okay?" Dean laughed, squinting up at him through one bruised eye.

"Where's Sammy?" asked Dean quietly, shifting to a sitting position. Deethe glared at him, then the arrival of the nurse made his face correct itself.

"Library with Jess. I didn't want to scare him, so I'll go get him." said Meg.

"No, no. Let him be. He likes that girl a lot, I don't want to ruin that." replied Dean, grabbing Meg's wrist to stop her from leaving. Meg smiled at him, hands shaking. "If you need to go home, Meg, you can go." Meg looked at him, cocking her head to the side before shaking it.

"No, Dean. You need friends. So I'm here and I'm not going anywhere, and you can damn near forget trying to get me to leave." she replied softly, stroking his hair. The nurse assessed his bruises and batterings, leaving him with an urgent advisement to go to the hospital because he probably had a broken nose.

"Well, looks like my work here is done. You can officially go home and I will help you with your exam next week, Dean." said Mr. Deethe. He rose, helping Dean up as well. "Have a good weekend, Mr. Winchester; try not to get yourself killed again." He turned, walking back towards the office. Dean laughed slightly, shaking his head.

"Well, looks like you survived the first round of homophobic maniacs, Dean," said Cas softly. "Still scared?"

"Not a bit." he replied, and he leaned down to kiss Cas: a long, lingering kiss that made his heart race and lips tingle. They parted, smiling at each other. "Not even a little."

**A/N: **Okay, I know it's been a really long time since I've posted anything but my internet was down for like almost a week :[ So I'm back now, and here to stay! Yay! Hope you liked this chapter – if you did please leave a review, favorite, follow, or all of the above! I love you guyyysss


	6. Chapter 6: Love

**A/N: **So, hey! This chapter is a flashback chapter; I didn't feel the need to make the entire chapter italicized, so please don't be confused. The flashes back to the present will be italicized. Thanks for reading.

Please review, follow, or favorite this story. I've been working very hard to make it enjoyable. Love you guys ~Bee~

**Chapter 6: Love **

Castiel walked around the barren apartment, eyes twinkling with pride. His – he and Meg were finally free. He bounced gleefully from foot to foot, smiling at the doorway. Balthazar moaned in resignation when he saw Cas standing just beyond the threshold; Cas giggled in reply. He watched Meg lug a heavy looking suitcase into the apartment, squealing in delight.

"It's beautiful," she whispered, clutching Cas' hand in both of hers. He sighed in amazement at her: this apartment was by no means beautiful. The walls were yellowed – it had the glowing look of a smokers home; the floors were scratched by dogs and the jostling of furniture. Castiel moved deeper into the rinky-dink flat, scanning dubiously. There was a large oil stain in the kitchen, buckling the hardwood. Off the kitchen were two bedrooms and a tiny bathroom. Meg claimed the one closest to the kitchen, directly across from the bathroom, reasoning that 'a woman needed constant access to the utilities'. Cas smiled at Balthazar, who stood quietly amidst boxes.

"Are you okay?" he asked, pulling his boyfriend closer. The blond nodded, tears filling his eyes. He looked down at the dark haired beauty in his arms, speaking softly, "Will you marry me, Castiel?" his light English accent wavered with emotion. Cas gasped lightly, pulling away just enough for Balthazar to realize his mistake.

"Oh. God. Castiel… Angel… I…" he wandered backwards, drawing a slim gold band from the inner breast pocket of his coat. He set it on a pile of boxes marked 'fragile' and scurried out, muttering something about boxes and loading zones. Castiel thin fingers traced the ring, shaking in incredulity. Balthazar – sweet, beautiful Bal, had just asked to marry him. Castiel was only seventeen – Meg was the sixteen-year-old wonder child. How did he expect Cas to react? Certainly not with a gasp and a step backwards.

Balthazar returned, suitcase in one hand, box of painted linen's in his other, arm wound gently around it. He looked flustered at the sight of Castiel with the ring, and took a prolonged breath. He moved around, Castiel, not looking up from the floor, and into the second bedroom. Castiel followed, ring bound in a closed fist. His arms wrapped around the tall Brit from behind, fingers opening to reveal the gilded band. Tears fell onto it, and Castiel quietly kissed the back of his neck. Balthazar turned, scooping Castiel onto the unmade bed and falling atop him. The ring practically flew from his surprised fingers, but he clutched it tightly, fist drawing Balthazar to his body, rocking against him.

_Castiel looked up from his badly written midterm paper, eyes fuzzy from hours of staring at his computer. He watched Meg do her early morning cleaning: sweeping, moping, washing dishes; things she really was genuinely good at. She grinned at him when she caught his eyes watching her body move fluidly around the apartment, running to kiss his forehead gently. Castiel waited patiently for the drumming sound of Dean's car to roar into the lot, hands shaking in nervousness. They'd been sharing stories: today it was his turn._

Castiel peeked from between partially closed lids to watch Meg close his door quietly. Balthazar and he breathed in sleepy unison, their hands interlocked. The bare-chested boys hummed softly to each other's rhythms, fingers dancing. Balthazar trailed his free hand seductively to Castiel's pant-line, running ribbons of pleasure over sensitive skin. Castiel flipped, laying siege to Balthazar's neck with his lips. They gripped each other, Castiel's hand still fist-shaped, the ring pressing a smooth circle into his palm. Balthazar backed away, drawing Cas' fist into his hands.

"I can't." he said softly, not looking at Cas. His mild, yet strong resolution broke into waves of heart wrenched sobs. Cas was at a loss; he knew Balthazar had said he wanted to be married before he 'did the deed', but that was when he was fifteen, still believed in God and wondered why he never lusted after women. Cas had never thought it would continue after he'd come out, after kids at school had spit in his face; after his mother and father had practically beat him senseless. Cas wasn't sure why it was so important, so he asked in a whisper: "Why does it matter so much, Bal?" he whimpered in response, cringing slightly at the sound.

"God made me, Castiel, He made me and He would want me to stay faithful to him, even with a man. That's the whole point – faith. You lost yours, Castiel, my angel, and I am-" Castiel had risen slowly from the bed, opening his hand to gaze at the thin golden band before casting his eyes back to Balthazar.

"You're… trying to convert me?" asked Castiel, astonished. "You're trying to get me to believe again?" Balthazar nodded slightly, pausing before responding with words.

"Yes, Castiel. God still loves you," he whispered. He was sitting up now, hands reaching towards Cas without moving, eyes trying to say beseechingly what he couldn't put into words. Castiel shook his head, violent anger surging up inside him. He lunged forward, knocking Balthazar backwards off the bed. He pounded Bal with his fists, tears spilling from his eyes, sobs breaking from his chest. He hesitated for a moment, hands shaking from adrenaline and pain, and murmured, "Get out. Now. Leave the last of my shit on the curb and get out of my apartment." Balthazar bounced up as soon as Castiel stood, grabbed his shirt and coat, and ran from the flat, lip and nose bleeding. Castiel opened one bruised fist, looking down at the ring.

"Why now, Bal?" he asked softly. He set the ring on the bare bed, and left to retrieve, with Meg, the last of his things.

_Castiel looked around the classroom. Most of the students were asleep, having already finished their term papers; Dean was nodding off in the chair at Mr. Deethe's desk, hands slipping off the keyboard. Mr. Deethe chuckled at the sight of twelve or so sleeping students as he reentered the classroom. One bony finger prodded Dean in the arm; he jolted awake, grinning sheepishly at the thin-faced man. Castiel looked back down at his paper, clenching and unclenching his left hand. He managed to type out a few more lines before Dean joined him in the back of the classroom, kissing him gently on the lips. Cas smiled up at him, patting his arm._

Balthazar's dark grey sedan sped out of the parking lot, lights throwing long streaks through Castiel's tears. He massaged his left hand gently, wincing at the pain that radiated up his forearm. Meg was staring at him, but he couldn't seem to collect himself enough to look back at her; he was angry, practically emitting clouds of seething energy. She took his hand, pulling him close and kissing him gently, wide lips caressing his in a way Cas hadn't felt in months. He glanced down at her, confused by this sudden gesture of passion. He'd always felt a deep admiration for the girl who called him her unicorn, protecting him like her life depended on it. There was something indiscernible in her eyes as she reached forward to kiss him again. His hands wrapped around her back, soothing her hair; Castiel kissed her back, feeling pressure build in his chest at the act.

"Wait, " said Cas, drawing back. "Meg, I can't kiss you like this – I don't feel this way for you."

"I know," she whispered, biting her lip. "But can't we just pretend?" Castiel laughed softly, shaking his head – not in denial, but in resigned acceptance. He grabbed the final box, winking at her and racing to the stairs. His heart pounded as he turned to Meg, crashing into her. Their lips slid against each other's, tongues battling. Castiel scooped her up, hands finding the crooks of her thighs. She moaned sharply in pleasure, finding traction in his hair with her hands, and on his neck with her lips. He carried her to her bedroom, setting her gently on the bed. He gazed at her, eyes tiredly sad.

"I can't do this, Megan." he only used her full name when he was angry or disappointed. Her eyes filled with tears, and she stared down at the already made bed. Meg's fingers twisted a loose thread in the dark comforter, hands shaking hard. Castiel walked forward, kneeling against her bed. He kissed her hands, running his fingers up her tan arms. She squirmed, winding backwards onto the bed, dragging a reluctant Castiel with her. He groaned in an upset way, hands dancing around the situation. She tugged at his shirt, prying the thin, ill-fitting cotton from his belted hips. He struggled away from her, using the little bit of strength he had left to stop Meg from undoing his belt.

"Stop." he murmured sharply, sounding harsher than he'd originally intended to. Meg jumped backwards, hands gathering in the blanket. The sixteen year old looked at her counterpart, his sympathetic eyes gazing at her in pity. She begged him with her looks for his hands and mouth to do things they simply weren't meant to do. He stood, trying to back away. "Meg, I love you, so much – but this… this isn't right." he sighed. "I can't do this to you."

_Castiel lifted his head at the sound of the bell, cringing at the thought of having to relive that story again. He whisked his things into his bag, scurrying away from Dean and to the bathroom. He ran into the stall, locking it behind him and leaning his head back against the wall. His heart pounded in his chest – he wanted Dean to know this. He just didn't know how the man he absolutely loved was going to react. _

Meg looked at Cas, crawling towards him. She mewled softly, drawing her fingers into circles on her dark sheets. His eyes rolled back slightly, pants tightening in the crotch. He knew, deep in his heart, he wouldn't be proud of himself in the morning if he slept with Meg. They were the best of friends; he didn't want to ruin that. She lifted his shirt, fingers wrapping around his belt loop, pulling him towards her. She kissed his stomach, tracing the edge of his belt with her tongue. He unbuckled it, unbuttoning his pants and yanking them off roughly. He whipped off his shirt, throwing it across the room. He pulled her up to him, lips colliding harshly with her own soft ones, she let out a sharp breath, teeth grabbing onto his bottom lip. He pulled her shirt off, tugging her pants and bra off, leaving her in dark, lace panties. She groaned in pleasure as he threw her backwards onto the bed, kissing down her neck, down her chest, to the hem of the lace. Her fingers clutched his hair, tightly grabbing the thin, short fibers. He moaned when she tugged gently. Castiel, in all of his seventeen years, had only fucked on other woman – it had confirmed his suspicion of homosexuality. So why was he doing this? Why was he pawing at Meg's flesh, letting her draw him in with her seductive sounds and the smell of her skin? It didn't matter anymore – he was. He sat up, pulling Meg towards him; fingers pacing their way down her elegantly curved form, one hand bunched in her mass of curly hair. They kissed, gentle tongues and hands like water. They continued on this way for a while, trembling together.

_Castiel was shameful at this memory – but it was something he had to share with Dean. He looked over at him, car filled with smoke from their cigarettes. He smiled, eyes glistening with tears. Dean cocked his head to the side, looking at Castiel. They both leaned forward at the same time, kissing hard. It had started to snow. _

**A/N: **So, this chapter is actually incomplete. Because of guidelines set down by the creators of this site, I can't actually post this chapter as a whole, because they'll remove it for a rather vulgar sex scene. It's going up on wattpad as soon as I finish writing it, so check it out there. I'll put a link in my profile. Love you guys ~Bee~


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